Midnight Runner - Jack Higgins [91]
"Of course, Countess. There was a message for you from your houseboy. He said that if you were in touch, to tell you he's heard General Ferguson and a Mr. Salter have moved into the Excelsior."
"Thank you."
She switched off and passed the information to Dauncey. "It's a good thing we have our personal luggage on board. We can get straight off."
"Are we running, Kate?"
"Don't be silly. From what? The Bacu Bridge is still in one piece, and so is the train. Everybody down there is dead. They can't prove a thing."
"Interesting, though, that they were all here. I wonder how they knew?"
"It's something to do with Dillon, it always is. God knows what, not that it matters now. At least I've settled the score with one of them."
"But not Dillon."
"My day will come, darling, just wait and see."
A n hour and a half after leaving the bridge, Villiers received a call from Daz. "Ah, Tony, the General explained your predicament. Describe the young man's symptoms." Villiers told him quickly what had happened and what he'd done.
"And how is he now?"
"Unconscious, but still with us. It's a rough ride."
"I know. I decided to come myself. It could make big difference. It won't be long now, Colonel."
Villiers told Dillon, who said, "Thank God. There's no color in him at all."
"Just keep the faith," Villiers said. "That's all we can do."
The wind sprang up again, spraying sand everywhere, and Dillon leaned over Billy, trying to protect him, despair in his head now. My younger brother, that was how he liked to describe himself, Dillon thought.
"God damn you, Kate," Dillon said softly. "If he dies, there'll be no place you can hide from me."
A moment later, a large ambulance emerged from the murk in front of them. Daz, a tall, cadaverous Indian wearing a hooded burnoose, emerged with two paramedics carrying a stretcher. They had Billy on it in a moment and turned back to the ambulance.
"We'll get straight back," Daz said. "I don't want to waste time."
Villiers said, "Go with him, Dillon. I'll see you soon."
Dillon ran after Daz and climbed in the rear of the ambulance. Suddenly, it was a calmer, more ordered world, the sound of the wind and the sandstorm remote, and he sat there watching Daz and his paramedics working on his friend.
I n the lounge at the hospital three hours later, Dillon and Harry Salter sat drinking whiskey from a half-bottle obtained from the Excelsior bar.
"What a bastard," Harry said.
Dillon nodded. "You've no idea how sorry I am."
"Oh, yes I have. It's not your fault, Dillon." He shook his head. "I couldn't love that boy more if he was my own son." Suddenly, he held out his paper cup. "Give me another." His hand shook a little. "He could die on us, Dillon, and that bitch shot him in the back."
"You know what they say, Harry. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It gives some people the idea they can do anything and get away with it. Kate Rashid's like that, but what happens when you find out you can't get what you want, can't have your own way? It's enough to drive you mad, if you're not mad already."
"Well, she bleeding is. If I ever get my hands on her..." He didn't finish, because Tony Villiers and Ferguson entered.
"Any news?" Ferguson asked.
Dillon shook his head. "Not yet."
"Well, I have. I've just checked with Lacey at the airport. Apparently, Kate Rashid and her cousin left for London more than two hours ago."
"Flying the coop," Dillon said.
"You could say that," Ferguson replied. "But look at it another way. What do we really have on her? The Bacu Bridge didn't happen. She's still the leader of the Rashid Bedu, the most powerful figure in Southern Arabia."
"What about the tape--the recording?"
"It doesn't mean a thing, because none of it happened. What would you ask the Director of Public Prosecutions to do? What would they be trying to get the richest woman in the world for, a flight of fantasy? No, the DPP's office wouldn't touch it with a barge pole, and if they did, a posse of London's most gifted QCs would make mincemeat of them."